At school
She's loud
She's obnoxious
She's intelligent
She overreacts
She talks a lot
She pretends
She piles on make up
She wears heels
Never a sports bra
Low cut shirts
She pretends to be something
She's not
Because to her
Anything's better than herself
Everyone judges her
But she doesn't care
As long as no one knows
The real her
She says it's acting
To cover the fact
That it's all a lie
She can turn it on and off
But sometimes it gets out of control
At home
She's quiet
She's obedient
She's mature
She still pretends
She sits in her room
Staring into space
Or reading
She takes care of her siblings
Does what she's told
But it's still an act
And that's only what happens in the day
At Night
She cries
She cuts, burns, bruises, scratches
And she writes
Notes, letters, poems, stories
That's the realest part of her
And when people read it
She claims, "It's all fiction."
But it's not
She pretends all day
She can't help it
But how do you stop pretending
When you forget
What's real
And what's not